Out of the Rolling Ocean
by A. Mulholland
Summary: How they find each other. How they get lost. How they come home.
1. If Only For a Moment (or, the beginning)

(I Would Give It All) If Only For a Moment  
in the beginning

* * *

This is a story about a boy and a girl who fell in love.  
This is how they found each other, but get a little lost along the way.  
This is how they find north again, and how they finally come home.

It starts a little bit like this:

They meet in paradise, somewhere under the sun and stars and moon, salt mixing with lust on a hot summer evening that carries them just a little too far.

She is barely eighteen and on the edge of something great.

He is the wrong side of twenty-five and trying to save the world.

She lives like there is no tomorrow.

He has seen tomorrow and knows that it can come too fast.

She makes him forget.

He teaches her to slow down.

Maybe it starts with a smile.

She's high on adrenaline and he's been watching her from the bar. It makes her reckless. Her hips sway as she wends her way to the bar (to him), tossing her sun-bronzed hair over her shoulder as she teases and winks and waves at everyone but him.

Some kind of primal instinct wells inside him, catching in his throat and settling higher than his stomach (he thinks it might be his heart).

She ends up a foot away from him, leaning over the bar and smiling widely at the bartender. "Surprise me," she requests.

When she gets her drink, she lifts the glass toward him, looks him dead in the eye, and cheerses him with a smirk. It's a challenge and an invitation and he knows he's officially insane because he thinks he might be in love.

The bartender made her a sex on the beach, and when he tastes it on her lips, he can think of nothing better.

They don't, of course. Have sex on the beach.

The sand and waves raised her. She knows its touch on her bare skin. All she wants to feel right now is him.

It starts with a cup of coffee.

She is lying languorously on the bed, sheets tangled in her legs and covering absolutely nothing, her lip caught between her teeth. At once sexy and so naïve, she stuns him so much he can't breathe when her eyelids flutter shut as she sips the coffee.

"I'm Kono," she giggles.

Somewhere in the midst of last night's heat, their names got lost.

He grins at her. "Steve."

It starts like a fire. Up in flames suddenly and burning slow through the years.

She blows out her knee and screams at the world from his arms. He holds her tight to him, trying to keep her protected for just one second more.

But he needs to protect the world, too. He leaves her again and again, but she leaves too. They dance around each other for three years, only barely meeting here or there. It's the lightest of touches and leaves them dissatisfied. Her heart swells, but when he leaves all she can feel is unbearable emptiness, like all of her left with him.

It starts because of death.

It's a mission gone almost completely wrong. His mortality knocks at the door until all he can see is her and all of the time they never had together. He thinks of lost chances and how he never let her know it's all for her.

It's all for her.

He asks for a month off. He needs time with his girl, to hold her tight and pretend he'll never let her go.

It starts, but it's not a question.

"I love you. Marry me."

"Okay."

They are never in the same place at the same time for more than two days, but they make the most of it when they are. He draws maps of him across her back and she tattoos her love between the ink. They leave mementos of each other to carry around until the next time. They try to make that enough.

It's not.

He meets her family, but not her favorite cousin. That's not until later. Her father is wary and her mother wants grandkids, but they love him because he loves their little girl.

It starts with them blissfully happy.

It starts for once without one of them having to leave.

Her cousin decks him in the jaw. He wants to deck his partner for holding on too long.

It starts with him promising to protect her.

It starts with family. And football.

It starts with history.

It starts with burning.

It starts when it all falls apart.

It ends in betrayal.

This is where we begin.

* * *

_A/N: It's been a while since I've done this, but I couldn't resist these two.  
_


	2. The Silence in Between

_Disclaimer: Disclaimed!  
_

_A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to all of you who read, reviewed, favorite, or followed. Before I take this adventure any further, I just wanted to clarify some things. The prologue spanned quite a few (six + season 1) years. We begin here at a dark time in their relationship, and it's only going to get darker before dawn breaks. What I mean to say is that this is my imagination running wild, creating the fallout of what happened had McKono been married season 1, but with everything happening largely the same way. Basically, this is what I think seasons 2 and 3 would be like if McKono were going through major marriage troubles. (If this explanation didn't explain anything, please PM me and I'll try again!) Onwards._

* * *

The Silence in Between (What I Thought and What I Said)  
at the end

* * *

He is a big man, all muscle and sinew, lithe and strong and impenetrable. It's what attracted her to him in the beginning: first, the broad back and shoulders that seemed to carry the weariness of the world, but then the way his arms could wrap around her and shut out the world for a little bit. Slowly, she let him become her protector, let herself let him save her.

Right now, in her face, yelling at her, looking at her like he doesn't know who she is, he makes her feel small like he never has before.

She hates him for it.

She has always been strong, has never needed protecting, can kick ass with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back, but she gave into him sometimes, let him make it better, let herself let him save her.

In the face of betrayal, she hates herself for it.

"I can't."

He slams the chair down and she understands in that moment why it is that suspects crack under pressure. He is terrifying in his chilly anger, and it takes all she has to remain in stony-faced defiance.

This is Steve, she has to remind herself, her Steve. Steve who brushes her hair out of her eyes to kiss her on the forehead, Steve who isn't afraid of anything but is ticklish just above his hipbone, Steve who tells her he loves her often and unabashedly, who would never hurt her.

"You listen to me. That's not good enough. 'I can't' is not good enough, because today, you're driving in a getaway car with a dead person in the front seat, okay, Kono? This isn't a game. We're talking about two murders. I mean, what are you thinking, Kono? Huh? What happened to you?"

He already has.

Chin comes in and looks at her like he always does, like she's still just nine-years-old, dressed like an angel for Halloween, asking him to take her trick-or-treating. She is not alone. Not today, not tomorrow, or any of the days ahead, because he's there. Chin has always been there to hold her hand and catch her if she fell when he let go.

She wishes she could tell him, she wants so much to tell him, but she needs to keep them safe. It's something they all seem to forget: that she's strong, too, has a protective streak, too, and no one hurts her family without going through her first.

"I can't."

It doesn't matter. Fryer comes in and reads them in and it's the first time that seeing the IA detective has made her feel relief. This is all far from over—there is still so much they need to fix—but now they know and she doesn't have to pretend anymore.

When she tells Steve she couldn't ask for better backup, she means it, doesn't intend for her tone to turn sarcastic. But it does, because, god dammit he's her husband and he's supposed to trust her.

* * *

Hand on the small of her back, fingers intertwined with hers, arm pressing her close, lips dancing down her neck and across her collarbone, he takes her home. It's a long, familiar road she knows like the back of her hand, could trace it even if all she could see was stars.

He's slow, more careful with her than he usually is, like he thinks she's going to break or disappear if he pushes too hard. She wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and cocoons herself into his body as he finds release.

They fall asleep like that and wake up still spooned together.

For a while, they are happy. They wake up a tangle of limbs and he whispers sleep-addled "Good morning, love you"s like benediction while she presses butterfly kisses to his chest.

She's pretending, only this time she's pretending everything is okay.

He feels her distancing herself. She doesn't wish him luck before he steps into the ring, starts calling him Boss more, teases him less. She's his anchor and his north, but she's floating farther and farther away. She is slipping away from him.

When she tells him she just needs some time, she just needs to be on her own for a bit, he doesn't know what to do.

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeats incredulously. "Why? Because I can't do this! I can't sit here and pretend that everything is completely fine when part of me hates you!"

The blow hits him harder than any of Borierro's or Chuck's, and he can barely breathe.

She lets out a breath, pushes her hair out of her face, and looks at him. "At the end of the day, you're my husband, Steve. You're supposed to know me better than anyone."

"I— Kono—"

"How could you ever believe that I was dirty? That I could betray Five-0 like that? That I could betray my family? That I could betray you?"

He wants to tell her that he believes in her, that he has always believed in her, has never once doubted her, but the truth is that no matter what he says, he saw her in the getaway car and had her cuffed like any other suspect. And maybe he could argue that it was only fair, that it looked suspicious and he had to do it, but this is Kono, headstrong, loyal to a fault, believes in good above all else Kono, and the truth is that, for a second, because of how bad things seemed, he stopped believing in her.

He can offer no reason—even in the deepest parts of him, he doesn't know why. So, defeated, he does the only thing he can. "I'm sorry." He will apologize a million times, a billion, for as long as they live, if only she will hear it and believe him.

"That's not enough."

* * *

_A/N: Short, unfortunately. I hope that subsequent chapters will get longer. This set-up, getting things situated and in line with the show thing is tougher than I thought it would be. This spans 2x05 to 2x06._

_I promise I won't inundate you all with so many (long!) authors' notes in the future, but this is basically syllabus week: a lot of talk, and none of it is very interesting, but it's all rather necessary. I am a full-time college student taking a full credit load, so updates won't follow some regular pattern and may be far between. However, come hell or high water, I will finish this. I haven't exactly figured out how I'm going to incorporate a lot of details/how I'm tackling each season, so if you have ideas or suggestions, I would absolutely love to hear them. I have very little knowledge of Hawaii, its language, its culture, or its geography. I will try my best to utilize the Internet and get things accurate, but please let me know if I've gotten something wrong and I'll fix it. The title comes from Whitman's _Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd. _And really, thank you again to everyone who's even just glanced at this. You have no idea how much of a thrill it is to get one of those notification emails. _


	3. I Never Knew Daylight

_Disclaimer: Disclaimed!_

_A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this, but such is life. _

_And again, thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the kind reviews, follows, and favorites. _

* * *

I Never Knew Daylight (Could Be So Violent)  
after

* * *

There is more pretending.

They pretend that everything is okay, that everything is normal.

Because how do you tell your family that you've fallen apart?

She pretends that she isn't still angry.

He pretends that, when it comes to her, he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve.

And they pretend enough that they don't need to pretend anymore.

The team falls back into an easy routine, and when they're working, it's almost like before. Of course, it's not, because they barely make eye contact and it's tense and even Lori, who doesn't know what it's supposed to be like, can tell that something is off.

Chin lets them be, offers silent support for whatever it is they're going through, because he knows she'll tell him when she's ready.

Danny has no qualms about bugging Steve for answers.

"She's mad, okay?" Steve finally replies, when he's about ready to drive them head on into traffic if only his partner will stop. Stop talking, stop asking questions he doesn't have answers to, stop reminding him of everything he did wrong.

"Well have you apologized?"

"Yes, Daniel," he answers shortly. "It's not enough."

Danny sighs, a response on the tip of his tongue, but leaves it at that.

And Lori doesn't pry into why it feels like the four of them are tiptoeing around an elephant, because their private lives are private, and really it's none of their business what her costume was.

Everything is just shy of normal, and they're making it work.

She moves out, Danny moves in, and he tries to communicate everything he wants to tell her through a bullet hole in a window.

* * *

He's never been good with words, so on his way out he just extends his arms, and she steps into them, wrapping her own around his waist. She tucks her chin into the crook of his neck and he holds her close.

"Be safe," she breathes into his ear, placing a tender kiss where his jaw meets his neck.

Be safe. Stay alive. Come back. (For me.)

They're dancing in a solid grey area, toeing way too many lines, and she's confusing everything, but he has a need a mile wide to be a hero and she can't let him go without him knowing that she needs him to come back alive.

He gives her one last squeeze and is gone.

* * *

The betrayal hits him as he stares down the end of Jenna's gun.

He wants to ask her why, but he knows why. He understands Jenna's reasons, knows that feeling, knows that if he were in her place, he'd do anything to get Kono back.

He hangs on to her, her face, her smile, the way her hand felt on the back of his neck as she asked him to come back, to be safe. As another current jolts through his body, he has the urge to laugh.

Safe has never been a word in his vocabulary, but alive, alive he knows. Alive, he will fight for. Because alive is the only way he can fight.

She has always been his saving grace. In his darkest places, hers is the light he seeks.

* * *

Lori's arms are warm around his shoulders but he feels only fear. He cannot find her.

"She's two towns over," Danny answers the unasked question wild in his eyes. "Running sat nav."

Two towns over is good. Two towns over is safe. Two towns over is where he needs her to be.

He nods, clenching his jaw, and allows his teammates to help him onto the helo.

Somewhere over the border, he succumbs to the soporific lull of blades and sway of the helicopter.

He wakes up minutes, hours, a world later to a cool hand pressed to his brow and light fingers brushing over the cuts on his face.

Groaning, he pushes himself up against the pillows. "Hi."

"Hi," she echoes. "This might hurt."

"Looks worse than it is," he says quietly, wincing as she dabs the damp towel on his cheek.

His eyes follow her deft movements as she cleans and bandages the cuts. "I don't think you'll need stitches," she says finally, finished with her work. She fidgets with her hands in her lap, fights against grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him for reasons, fights against kissing him, fights against the visceral reactions she has at seeing him hurt. "But they're bringing in a doctor to make sure that everything is okay. Danny insisted."

He cracks a grin, cupping her hands in his.

"I thought we were done," she begins. He doesn't let himself finish the sentence, because there are a million combinations of words that could finish that statement but only a few of them could ever be the ones he wants to hear. "I thought I was done worrying about you going off to god knows where, being a hero, putting your life behind everyone else's. I thought I could handle it. I thought that because of… how we are, I'd be— I thought—" She takes a breath and laces her fingers through his, squeezing, feeling his solidity.

"You could have died, Steve, and that should be enough to make everything else not matter. You were gone and all I could think was I didn't want things to end the way they did, but it does matter. I can't get myself to forget. I love you, Steve. I do. But…"

"It's not enough," he finishes for her.

She breathes out and looks at him.

"I get it, Kono," because he does. He knows the way the betrayal twists in his gut, even though Jenna had reasons better than his by a lifetime, even though Jenna gave herself to save him. "I get it." (I love you. We'll be okay.)


	4. For a Sinner Like Me

_Disclaimer: Alas, tis not mine. _

_A/N: Do you ever have those moments when you have the perfect words but don't actually write them down? This happens to me way too frequently. I should probably learn write as I think… Also, I can't decide if I like the fact that I seem to have a running phrase/word in these chapters… _

_I apologize for the wait and that this is so short (I don't know that I can say they'll ever get longer, though), and again, a thousand thank yous to everyone who has even glanced at this. _

* * *

(The Questions I Have) For A Sinner Like Me  
begin

* * *

They would've made great parents, she thinks, if you disregard their combined ability to attract danger. But right now, she's really glad they decided to wait to have kids.

She's glad she hasn't dragged tiny combinations of him and her into this mess they've created and she's glad she doesn't know the fear that these parents do and she's glad she can be selfish enough to be glad.

She steals quick glances at Steve throughout the day, sees the fire, the determination in his eyes, and knows that he will be a great father.

That he'll be a fierce protector, but tender, too.

That he will teach his sons to throw spirals and be brave.

That he will teach his daughters to fight and be strong.

That he will love and dote on his children, raise them to seek truth and good and justice, to be steadfast in their convictions, to treasure their family and home, to never deny who or what they are.

That they will raise their children by the ocean and teach them what it is to be family.

In all of the futures she has imagined for herself, he has never not been there.

* * *

She doesn't miss the look he and Lori share.

* * *

He never thought about having kids before her, never considered having a family or settling down, committing to some thing or place or person beyond what his commanding officer directed.

He moved day to day, mission to mission until he met her.

There was no crippling moment of realization that he wanted more, that this was the woman he wanted forever with. It crept, twisting its way into every fiber of his being until the thought didn't terrify him and one day he was speaking in absolutes about their future, their children, their lives thirty years from then.

_She grins at him, "The kids are going to love broccoli?"_

_He grins back, the momentary fear of moving too fast melting away as he pulls her to him. "Yes," he insists as he steals a kiss. "They'll love their vegetables." _

"_Kids are destined to dislike vegetables, Steve."_

"_Not my kids," he says proudly. "They'll eat them all."_

_She just laughs at him and settles into his arms, loosely wrapping her own around his waist. "And just who are you having these broccoli-loving children with?"_

_His expression sobers. "You," he states simply._

_She's quiet when she replies. "Okay." _

They decide to wait, and today more than any other day, he's glad.

"_I love you," he whispers into hairline. "Marry me."_

"_Okay."_

* * *

He doesn't know what to say to her to make it hurt less.

* * *

She meets Adam on a Wednesday.

Rushing between casework and a last-minute dress fitting, she is frazzled and hungry and altogether not in any mood to be charmed, but he is charming and she feels a warmth in her ears and a flutter in her stomach that she can't explain.

Despite her better judgment, she lets him buy her coffee and is late to the fitting.

Despite her better judgment, she agrees to a date.

Despite her better judgment, she keeps the date even after she realizes what his last name implies.

* * *

She wakes up and can't remember if the face she dreamt of was Adam's or Steve's.

It scares her for more reasons than she can put words to.

* * *

_They get married on the beach under the stars on a heady night that reminds him of the first night._

_She is beautiful and he is in love and she thinks it's the beginning of something pretty great. _

_The hem of her white dress flits around her bare ankles as they vow to love, cherish, and honor, and his fingers dance across her wrist as he slides the ring on her finger with unspoken promises that she returns when she brings her lips to his._

Tonight, in the moonlight, they stand side-by-side on the sand after the ceremony, staring out at the same ocean that has loved them both longer and better than they deserve.

"I have a date tomorrow," she says by way of nothing, cutting through the thick tension that runs in cords between them.

She has been fumbling over the words in her head. How does she tell him that she has found someone else who can make her feel as giddy as he did (still does)? How does she tell him that she doesn't know anymore if she made the right decision, that she thinks maybe her mother was right and she was too young to know? How does she tell him that this isn't just a crisis of faith in him and her and everything she believed to be unbreakable?

"Okay."

But it's not.


	5. Some Lost Lonely Souls

_Disclaimer: All I own is a lot of Jane Austen books and a wishful temperament. _

_A/N: Be forewarned, a long, but rather important (so please read it – the third part, bolded for your convenience, anyway) author's note awaits you. _

_Firstly, sorry sorry sorry for the delay! I had sixty-five words written for a month, but then finals took over my life and any and all desire to do anything but sleep ran out the window. I'm now on summer break and hoping to be able to get regular and more expedient updates out to you all. _

_Secondly, we skim over 2x13-2x15 here and the meat of this chapter takes place during, after, or around 2x16. _

_**Thirdly**__, this chapter marks the introduction of (spoilers! but not really… we all knew this was coming) Catherine. I would like to preface her incorporation by saying that I enjoy Catherine's character, appreciate her on the show, and hope to do her justice in this story. That said, this is a little slice of my imagination and that means (spoilers! but again, no one didn't see that coming) McKono. I will do my darnedest to be fair to all characters involved, because that makes for more interesting fare. There be no cat fights here. Only, you know, gut wrenching angst. If you think my characterization is unfair to her or anyone else, please let me know constructively how I can do better. _

_And lastly (and most importantly): Thank you so much for reading! _

* * *

(The Foot Trails of) Some Lost Lonely Souls

begin

* * *

Standing on the lanai, arms crossed over his chest, he watches with steely resolve as she drives away to her new beginning. And when he walks back inside, he is hit with emptiness and just how much her presence filled the house.

For weeks, he moves around gingerly, avoiding the in betweens that she has left, unable to escape the feel of her. He grew up here, but she's the one who made it feel like home.

Eventually, his own dirty laundry takes the place of hers and he has enough ghosts to keep him warm.

* * *

They don't talk about it.

They settle into a professional rapport easily enough and it's easy to forget the hurt and anger when they're chasing down criminals.

But he flirts with Lori more openly, watches Kono flinch at their shared smiles, and thinks she deserves it. He has done terrible things, but he is not a cruel man.

In these moments, he is cruel.

He teases Lori with things he can't (won't. can't. will never be able to.) give her.

He shows Kono how little he is affected by her, proves to her just how little she mattered and to him how much she does.

* * *

She moves forward as though nothing is wrong.

"I don't like that you live here," Adam tells her apropos of nothing except her key turning in the door.

"It's better this way," is all she'll give in response.

She silences the conversation by pressing kisses to his jaw. As the door clicks open, he tucks a knuckle under her chin to lift her lips lightly to his. Safely inside, his original point is forgotten in a haze.

Later, a tangle of sheets and limbs, his fingers threading through her hair, he breaks the silence.

His words pull her from the bliss she was basking in. No, she tells him. She would rather not tell her friends right now. It's not because she wants to keep him secret or because she's ashamed. She's happy —he makes her happy. She'll tell them eventually. When the time is right. She wants it to be just them for a little while longer.

He tries to believe her.

She does too.

Telling her friends means they will ask questions she doesn't want to answer, doesn't have the answers to, that have answers that will break her heart.

She pulls him in for another kiss and ignores the weariness in her bones that struggles against the excitement in her nerves.

* * *

Chin, because he is Chin and because he has always been her fiercest protector, is there, checking up on her, when Adam leaves in the morning.

These days, he doesn't know what he needs to protect her from, but he's going to do it all the same.

"I'm not doing this to hurt him, Chin," she says quietly when she meets his eyes. "It's more than that."

He nods, knows his cousin through and through.

She is, and always has been, guided by simple principles: goodness, justice, family, and heart.

"I'm always gonna support you, Kono. Be careful."

She leans into his hug, lets him share the weight of her crosses, and tells him she'll see him at work.

* * *

Maybe he brings Catherine out of revenge.

Maybe he gets some kind of sick joy to see hurt flash in Kono's eyes.

Maybe he gets way more than he bargained for.

(Maybe, definitely, he thinks ruefully, three is a crowd.)

* * *

Kono comes alone, perhaps thinking it best not to bring the head of the Yakuza to a room full of law enforcement, perhaps thinking it best to not rub shoulders with awkwardness tonight too.

(She is only delaying an inevitable.

She has never been shy, barrels forward with blind passion and lackadaisical rationality, has always forged ahead at a turn of her gut.

These days, her gut is telling her to tread lightly.)

She isn't sure what emotion bubbles in the pit of her stomach when she sees Cath, knows it isn't anger, despite the bitter laugh at the stark contrast between Cath's black and her own white gown.

Really, shouldn't she be the one in black?

There isn't time to dwell on it, when the governor comes up to Steve.

She thanks, sheepishly, whatever deity is out there for keeping Five 0 in business and her life only slightly uncomfortable.

(All the while, the voice in her head is screaming she is her own undoing.)

* * *

He'd forgotten what effortless felt like, decides to escape for a little bit into a different comfort zone.

He brings chocolate and she counters with questions.

"What are you doing here, Steve?"

"Reserves drill," he replies simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She rolls her eyes and deigns his answer with only a raised eyebrow.

Finally, he relents, shows more emotion in one sentence than he's allowed in the last couple of months. "I needed to get away, Cath. I need to do something that doesn't rip me a new one every time I breathe."

"You know," she says with a smirk, "most people would call this hard."


	6. Ships Are Sailing

_Disclaimer: Hawaii Five-0 is not something that I own. A hardy (and hearty) propensity for the passive voice, however, is. Alas. I am a grammar nerd. But H50 is still not mine. _

_A/N: Please excuse my characterization of Sam Hanna. I only occasionally watch NCIS: LA and don't have a great handle on his personality. As always, thank you so much for your reviews and reads and favorites and follows! _

* * *

(In the Winter Night Sky) Ships Are Sailing  
stasis

* * *

She tips her bottle in his direction, tells him in a way that bites at his heart that she learned it from him.

Because they've left indelible marks on each other, paths in each other's stories as ingrained as the veins beneath their skin.

Slowly, surely, and deftly, she taught him to trust in the constancy of others, in the constancy of her.

Slowly, surely, and effortlessly, he began to believe again in worthiness.

A world and a lifetime ago, the boy who taught himself to be a man fell into orbit with the girl who spoke the words of the ocean. He found comfort and security he had not felt in half a lifetime.

With quick action she has laid waste to the fortifications she helped build.

To stay afloat, he reaches for, hangs on to, anchors himself to someone else who has been constant in his life.

Things with Catherine are light and uncomplicated. They share a bond, a mutual understanding forged in the fires of war, as steady as anything else in his life. It starts as the want for balance and as with the ways of the world, turns unbidden into something more.

The easiness, the all-consuming thrill remind him, when he lets them, of a different beach, a different set of arms, a different path.

* * *

Catherine does not give in quickly to the heady feelings.

"Kono, what is going on with you and Steve?" The two women have been sitting in tense silence on the patio of a tourist-laden café for the better part of half an hour. "Because I think Steve and I are starting something and I don't know if—"

"Cath," Kono interjects before the other woman (the _other_ _woman_) can go any further. "It's fine. Steve and I are… we weren't working and we're taking a break." She offers a tight smile and repeats, "It's fine."

"Kono…"

Kono knows Cath and Steve have a history longer than she has been part of the story, knows they have too many almosts and half starts, knows that, at some point, the other woman thought that she had stolen her own future and hated her for it, knows Cath wants to know if this is a second chance or just another almost.

Like so much of the time now, she has no answers for Cath's unspoken questions. So she settles for truth. "He's a good man, Cath." Be good to him. "Be happy." Make him happy. Please make him happy. "Thank you."

* * *

Before Mary Ann leaves, she catches Kono on the beach, weaving through the waves as though she were part of the ocean. As Kono steps out of the water, looking every part water goddess, Mary understands the pull between the surfer and her brother.

Mary raises her arm to catch Kono's attention and a grin appears on the younger woman's face when she catches sight of her. "Mary, hey!" she greets a little breathlessly.

"Hey!" Mary replies, pulling her in for a hug. "Looking good out there. Way better than Danny and my brother."

Kono tosses her head back in laughter. "Danny's doing pretty well, considering it took him four months to get up on his board."

"Steve told me you were phenomenal; you really are."

"He was pretty biased," she counters, brushing hair out of her eyes. "You heading out soon?"

"Yeah. My flight's in a few hours. Just wanted to say goodbye."

Kono pulls her sister-in-law in for another hug, "It was really good to see you, Mary. Come back soon."

"You too. I will." Pulling back a little to meet Kono's eyes, Mary implores, "Don't give up on him, okay?"

"Mary…"

"My brother's an ass, but he's an ass who loves you."

She sighs and settles into the sand, digging her feet into the grains. Mary follows. "I know that, Mare, but sometimes loving someone isn't enough." Leaning into her knees she smoothes her fingers over the sand above her toes and turns to look at Mary. She has always been able to talk to the older woman, has always found something in her eyes that is familiar and trustworthy.

"This isn't— It's not some kind of test or… cry for attention… It started as me needing some space to wrap my head around things, but then I met Adam and it just felt… it felt more right than Steve had for a while and I couldn't – didn't want to, really – resist it. He's been so distant, with Shelburne and Wo Fat and all these things he won't talk about.

"I get that it's important to him, but sometimes it felt like getting answers was the only thing that was important…" She lets out a breath, runs fingers through her tangled hair, and offers Mary a weak smile while standing up and brushing the sand off of her thighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to unload all that on you."

"Oh, Kono. I'm here to talk whenever you need. Even if—especially if—my brother's being a jackass."

They walk in silence to where Kono has laid her things and then to her car. "Need a ride anywhere?" she asks as she unlocks the doors. .

"Nah. Steve'll be picking me up soon and I want to enjoy the sun a little longer."

Kono nods, twirling the key ring on her index finger. Mary Ann pulls her in for one last, tight hug. "For what it's worth, Kono, I think you're pretty great. I'm glad Steve found you. I've never seen him as happy as when he was telling me about you."

As much as the words comfort her, they also roil guilt in her gut.

She drives off with a wave to Steve's (her) sister and a heavy heart.

Steve arrives at the beach in good time and makes his way through the parking lot to find his sister sitting at the edge of the sand, her toes buried in it. "Mary," he calls softly, placing a hand on her shoulder in an effort to not startle her.

"Hey, Steve," she says as she turns and squints at the sun behind him. "Time already?"

"We've got a few minutes."

"Only 'cause you drive like a maniac."

He perches next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "You've been hanging around Danny."

She shrugs. "I like your team. They're good people."

The wayward siblings sit quietly, watching as the waves crash onto shore and lick at their toes. "Steve?" she questions softly.

"Yeah, Mare?" he returns equally gently.

"You gotta figure out what's more important to you. Is what you're trying to get worth everything you're potentially losing?"

She leaves it to him to figure out what she means and he figures the vagueness is purposeful, though he's almost certain he knows what she's talking about.

"When'd you get so smart?"

She rolls her eyes and picks herself up. "I'm not ten anymore." Without waiting for him to stand, she runs off, shouting "Race you to the car!" into the wind.

* * *

He knows to expect something, knows his team, and knows that all their whispering the last week can mean one thing, but doesn't know what exactly that one thing is.

He doesn't make a big deal of birthdays, hasn't since he lost the person who planned all his parties with a meticulous eye.

Kono preferred smaller affairs to celebrate than the blowouts of his childhood, he remembers fondly (bitterly).

As close to the actual day as his leave would allow, she would steal him away for a picnic on a secluded beach or a weekend on a mountain or twelve hours alone anywhere. He misses those days and how easily he took them for granted, but seeing the smile on her face crinkle her eyes, he thinks salt cake is okay, too.

Because he knows exactly what Mary was talking about.

He just doesn't know if he can comfortably move forward without casting away the ghosts that haunt him.

* * *

She's always loved Sam Hanna, his candor and his humor, his unconditional ability to make her smile.

"You two? On a break? I don't believe it. He's crazy about you."

She smiles sheepishly at him and shrugs.

After all, things change, don't they?

She was crazy about him, too. (Isn't sure she isn't still.)

She isn't sure she would call it a break.

More accurately, they're stuck in limbo.

They've found stasis, because even though they've found the arms of other people, neither one of them is willing to move the first brick of the home the built together.


	7. Jealous Is the Night

_Disclaimer: Hush now. Let me have my fantasies. _

_A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for the delay. Life got away from me for a bit, and this was put on the backburner. I just want to give a massive thank you to everyone who has stuck around with my sporadic and unreliable updates. I can't promise it'll get better, but I'm trying my best. _

_I'm also quite sorry (REALLY REALLY SORRY) to say that it's going to continue hurting for a bit longer. Please rest assured, I have every intention of making the ending a happily ever after for McKono. But, you know, darkest before the dawn and all that._

* * *

Jealous is the Night (When Morning Comes)  
lost

* * *

She doesn't know who she's trying to save anymore.

They have lost fathers and mothers, but she has lost a lifetime at the hands of Wo Fat.

She doesn't know how much more she's willing to give.

* * *

"Adam, look at me. Put the gun down."

* * *

The words—quiet, assertive, meant to calm and sway—are standard enough procedure. It's the tone that wrenches his heart, nearly makes him buckle at the knees. He recognizes it, has known it well on lazy, reverent mornings, when she traced her dreams into his skin with fingers and lips.

Some part of him always thought of it as just his.

He has stared down the barrel of more artillery than he can count, but nothing has terrified him more than the realization that she loves Adam Noshimuri.

It saves his life, and he doesn't get time to dwell on it.

* * *

She doesn't know who she is anymore, begging her boyfriend not to kill her husband, like she's the main character on one of those dramatically lit weekday television shows she watched when she blew out her knee and it was all she could bring herself to do while wallowing in self-pity.

The thought almost makes her laugh.

She watches as Adam, defeated, lowers his gun and allows the uniforms to handcuff and lead him away, sees another gun, acts on instinct.

She ends a life.

She saved two.

She doesn't know what kind of cosmic, karmic balance that gives her.

She doesn't think about it, keeps her voice airy as she steps into his outspread arms and pulls him in for a tight hug, holding on for dear life.

"You don't write, you don't call…"

It's a silly thing to say, considering where he's been and what he's been doing, but it's left over from years of missing each other, and the words bubble out of her unwittingly.

He pulls her in close, tucks his chin in the hollow of her neck, and holds on just as tightly as she does.

* * *

Later, when the moon has risen enough to cast its faint glow, she paddles off shore and lies on her board, savoring in the gentle lull of the waves, letting them carry the weight on her shoulders. She has always loved the beach late at night, when the tourists have all gone home and a quiet serenity takes over the entire island and everything is a secret between her and the spirits.

It is her escape, her one place to stop, breathe, think.

She lives by instinct, following heart and gut almost excessively. It makes her reckless and brave and bold. To a fault, she is a doer; she does not dwell or mull, simply acts, tackles problems head on and with abandon.

This, she has decided, is what got her in this mess to begin with.

The truth of the matter is, however, that she has been avoiding the difficult things for a while.

Kono Kalakaua is not a coward, but she has a hard time making difficult decisions and finds herself, for once, inextricably stuck.

So, with only the wind and waves as company, she tries to find answers.

Maybe, if she's lucky, she'll find them in the stars.

Minutes or hours later, she hears the familiar shuffle of feet on sand, knows exactly who it is.

(Perhaps it is a sign.)

(Perhaps she takes it as one.)

She has floated close enough to shore that she can just barely skim the bottom with her toes; this is a fact she knows without having to test it. Idly, she lets the waves carry her a little bit more.

He used to know her, the lilt of her breath, the sparkle in her eye, every curve of her lip and change of mind.

He used to know what they were, what they stood for, what they would become.

There are things he still knows: her faith, her loyalty, her joy, her candor.

He hopes he never loses them.

There are things he will never forget.

She is a hard habit to break.

* * *

"What the hell are we doing here, Kono?" he asks, quiet voice betrayed by the rough tone.

"No fucking clue," she answers in kind.

They sit shoulder-to-shoulder in the sand, his clasped hands on his knees, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Are you happy with him?"

"I don't know."

For a while, they sit in silence, watching the crash of waves as they each contemplate the next move.

"Steve? I'm glad you're back."

Maybe, this is an invitation to start over. Maybe, this is hope.

"Yeah. Me too."

He slips an arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her hairline, breathing in the coconut and sun and saltwater that is so undeniably Kono.

Maybe he accepts it. Maybe it's just what he needs.


End file.
